Chronic Kisses
by nedlovesyou
Summary: JONAS. A series of unrelated drabbles centered around kisses shared between Nick Lucas and Macy Misa. Currently discontinued!
1. 017: Colourful

**Don't know where this came from; I'm just sort of going with it. My response to the kisses prompt table over on live journal.**

**Drabbles = short, therefore updates = often. My top priority is still Time In Between though, so don't worry! ;)**

**Enjoy!**

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**Prompt 017, Colourful**

_A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous. _

_- Ingrid Bergman_

A dress reflecting the light blue color which the sky on a sunny, summer afternoon possess hugs her curves in the most simplistic, perfect way. It flares out at the bottom, the end of it falling just above her lightly tanned knees with the last inch of fabric covered by an intricate design that mixes dark blues, light blues, deep purples, and stormy grays. His eyes travel up to her shoulder, where the thick strap of it rests flawlessly atop the smooth skin of her shoulder and he's overcome with the strongest urge to skim his fingertips across it. Continuing upward, his gaze lands on her lips that are covered in a faint amount of glittered pink and silver lip gloss, and he can almost taste the fresh strawberry flavor of it on his own lips. Her cheeks are colored scarlet, a blush having spread across them when she fell underneath the intensity of his gaze.

"Hi," she breathes out in whisper, and his eyes shift to finally meet hers. He feels himself melting in the pools of light brown and speckled gray her eyes posses as the corners of her mouth lift into a shy smile.

"Hi," he mirrors, the subtly of his nervous smile identical to hers.

With words escaping them and a silence settling between them while the loud mass of partygoers continue obliviously dancing around them, his legs seem to move without his consent and he's suddenly inches away from her. Orange, golden, and neon fireworks illuminate the night sky behind her as the others throw their hands up in excitement and their eyes remain locked with each other's. Her eyes are sparkling and suddenly she lifts her hand to rest against his pale cheek, which is instantly colored crimson at the sensation of her touch. Her fingertips trace patterns across his skin as his head moves closer to hers, an almost magnetic force pulling him to her as his hand finds its way to the small of her back where it rests lightly. Her eyes flutter closed and his soon follow suit, the weight of her body pressing against his without fault as if they were both specifically molded to fit this way.

Then suddenly, but softly, his lips brush hers and she pulls him into a searing kiss, an explosion of bright yellows and pinks and greens and oranges and indigos flashing across their closed eyelids which mirror the real fireworks in the starry sky above them.

In that moment, he stops seeing the world in black and white as the soft lips of his colorful best friend press against his.


	2. 027: Bittersweet

**Thank you for the reviews and alerts! :)**

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**Prompt 027, Bittersweet**

_"Kisses are like tears, the only real ones are the ones you can't hold back."_  
_ - Author Unknown_

He's come to detest the white walls of this building, despising the way the paint's chipping in the bottom corners in the same way he loathes the ever vacant corridors that provide no sort of comfort for him. If she were awake, he decides, she would probably hang a poster on the ceiling above the bed they're keeping her in. It would without question be of JONAS because, though she's far over her initial infatuation with them, she still likes poking fun at him.

"Imagine the millions of posters printed each day with your face plaster across it," she would always tease. "You're _practically _a worldwide sensation."

She can't tease him now - not when her eyes are closed and there are needles sticking in her arm because she can't get the oxygen or nutrients into her body by herself. That's what happens to people when they're in a coma, he's heard before. Now he knows.

His fingertips trace softly across the palm of her open, motionless hand. The coldness of her skin against his still startles him, though he figures he should be used to it by now considering he has been going through this same motion for about three months now.

Today's day one hundred; he's counted.

He tries to keep a tear from slipping past his eyelid, but the lump in his throat has begun to burn and he feels like he's suffocating so he exhales deeply and the tear falls slowly, slipping down his cheek and to his chin before it drops down onto her fingertip. Leaning closer, he presses his lips against the spot where it landed and tastes the salt from his fallen tear. He begins to place soft, quiet kisses on the palm of her hand, the weak pulse point of her wrist, along her forearm, on her shoulder and the nape of her neck and her cheek and the corner of her mouth.

He's done this one hundred times, trying to kiss the lifelessness away as if it's just a mere scrape of the knee. For one hundred days, he's placed a final kiss on her lips in hopes that some sort of miracle will occur and her eyes will flutter open, her lips moving back against his in the flawlessly rhythmical pattern as they had so many times before. For one hundred days, her lips have remained still and his heart and hopes have continued to sink a little lower. He's been staying optimistic, because he knows that that's what she would do if she were awake and that's what she would want him to do, but as he's leaning in to place the last kiss on her lips, his hope is finally lost.

But when he kisses her, there's pressure - he swears that there is. His eyes fly open and he's expecting _(hoping) _to see her staring back up at him with her chocolate brown eyes, but they remain closed and the heart monitor is still running, the needles are still in her arm, and reality comes flooding back to his world all over again.

Nevertheless he tries again, placing a warm hand upon her frozen cheek as he presses his lips softly down onto hers. There's no pressure this time, and his heart begins tumbling down into his stomach when suddenly the heart monitor starts to race faster, and faster, and faster, and faster…

And he keeps hoping.


End file.
